Isle of Flightless Birds
by PunsandPoses
Summary: Since an accident on the eve of Dean's twenty-sixth birthday, he has been in a coma. Enter Castiel, a dreamwalker created by Dean. While Sam and doctors rush to wake Dean up, they dream, of a world rich with mythology and thankless heroism, of angels and demons, of people who love and people who hate. Together, they walk through Dean's mind and life, watching the world burn.
1. Message Man

At first, Castiel couldn't remember much of what he was there for. Maybe so he was there to help an insomniac, or someone with nightmares.

He didn't expect someone in a coma.

For years, he wandered within the confines of someone's mind. Dean Winchester's mind. He saw and felt every daydream, every thought, every nightmare or sweet dream. Through the jade eyes of Dean Winchester, he saw the world as Dean knew it. Bright, with the only concerns being getting out of class and the latest hot girl.

But if Dean perished, so would he. But Dreamwalkers had strange magic. They could heal their hosts, extend lifetimes, visit their brethren for short periods at a time.

But they couldn't fully separate from their host without dark magic. Those who did made only nightmares.

Lucifer, one of them, was locked in the Cage, in the deepest, darkest part of the collective human mind. Humans never explored, none wanting to go deep into their own nightmares.

Even the most powerful dreamwalkers never ventured there.

Not Gabriel, not Raphael, not Michael.

No one dared.


	2. Slowtown

So bold and fearless in the risks we take,  
Laugh in the face of gravity as its laws we'd break,  
On trampolines so high, we reach for the sky, but I,  
Do not look up anymore and I don't know why.

* * *

 _ **[DREAM]**_

Dean snuck in Sam's apartment. Sam, lying in the bedroom, was startled awake. He crept out of the bedroom, sneaking to a secret drawer to find a knife he had hidden away. Strange symbols gleamed on the metal until it was pulled out of the moonlight.

When he saw the dark figure, he leapt forward and tackled.

They tousled for a moment, before the figure won. Dean's face pulled into view, he stared down at Sam.

"Easy, tiger."

* * *

 _ **[HOSPITAL]**_

"He hasn't changed." Sam strode around the room. "It's been three weeks! Why hasn't Dean changed?!"

"Lots of people take weeks to wake up, it doesn't mean much." Missouri, the doctor, said. "He might take years. he's dreamin' though, we can tell. His brain activity is high. But we can't tell what he's been dreamin' of."

* * *

The dresser crushed Dean and Sam against the Impala. Water trickled down the stairs of the ramshackle house.

Two ghost children appeared at the top of the stairs. Constance turned and looked at them in fear.

"You've come home to us, Mommy."

* * *

Mary watched Sam, worried. She turned to John. "You really think Dean will wake up?"

Gruffly, Bobby turned to them. "He will. Dean has the mind of a guy who pulls through. We'll see him even if it's not the way we expect. And Sam-" He flicked the mass of jackets. "-get your shit together, idgit."

A shrill cell phone ringtone echoed through the now silent waiting room. John, looking guilty, took it out before striding out.

Mary turned toward Sam again. "Honey, Dean will pull through."

Sam rotated, looking grim. "You don't know that."

"No, I don't. It's faith that tells me."

* * *

Dean ran up the dock, and with no hesitation, dove in the murky water.

* * *

"He's got fluid in the lung!" a nurse screamed at Missouri.

"Where did it come from?" Missouri calmly asked. On the hospital bed, Dean's legs kicked. His breath periodically ended and began again in a huge gulp of breath.

He didn't wake up, though.

* * *

 _ **[DEAN'S MIND]**_

Through Dean's mind, he saw the dreams. Castiel turned, and then saw a dark tendril of magic. Purple sparks shot out. When one touched him, he felt a fear like one he had not felt for ages. Lucifer's curse was coming to bear its terrifying fruit. Castiel shuddered as he remembered Lucifer's words.

 _If any of you...fuckers fall in love with someone, every single part of there dream actually happens to them. If they get shot in the leg, they get shot in the leg. If they drown, they drown. I don't give a fuck about you anymore, since you never seemed to for_ me!

* * *

Sam stared at the nurses running around. He caught snatches on coversation, snapshots of this moment with Dean.

"Restrain him, he's kicking-"

"-nearly pulled out his IV-"

"Fluid isn't going down-"

"If anything, it's going up-"

"Missouri, what should we do?"

"Restrain that boy and try to take that fluid down."

A gasp escaped one of the nurses as the fluid came out. Dean's legs kept kicking, as though treading water.

Later, when Missouri told Sam what they thought happened, she showed him a bag of greenish water, floating with algae.

"We've tested this a thousand times," she said, handing the bag over, "but there is no way Dean could have gotten or made this, even with the help of bacteria. From what we can tell, this is lake or river water, plain and simple."

Sam stared numbly at the bag, then Dean, now sleeping peacefully.

"Zeppelin rules," Dean mumbled.


	3. House of Gold

She asked me, "Son, when I grow old,

Will you buy me a house of gold?

And when your father turns to stone,

Will you take care of me?"

* * *

 **[MICHAEL'S LIBRARY, Γη του All Υπενθύμιση]**

Castiel stared at the shelves around him. Michael's Library, made sixteen centuries before. It was ancient, with marble pillars and stacks upon stacks of books.

He loved it.

He turned throughout the shelves, watching flutters of green, red, and blue magic twinkle away.

He stopped at one, an irresistible pull drawing him in. A book, glowing orange like a dim sunset. Castiel glanced at the title.

 _"Lucifer, δίδυμο του Michael: οριστική Ιστορία"_.

 _Lucifer, Twin of Michael: A Conclusive History._ One of the most notorious books ever written. Made by an unknown "H.P", the book had caused an uproar, and not just because of it's particular subject. It was rumored that if someone unrelated to Lucifer ever tried to take it from the Library, they would be smote by some unknown force.

It wasn't true, but the rumor had run its course. No one touched it.

And so, it was lost, forgotten. Much like Castiel himself. For years, he was an oddity, a new, foreign thing. Only because he was new.

It was through strange magic that dreamwalkers were made. Castiel was younger than his fellows, who had seen thousands of years, been reincarnated so many times, in so many different forms that they had forgotten what they originally were.

Most of them feared Death, as basically immortal creatures do. They feared that it stalked their heels, prepared to strike at any given moment. They took on a "Tell-Tale Heart" stance, reassuring themselves that what they feared was something simple, ordinary. They were terrified.

And of this, this fear of the unknown, it originally led them to become nightmares in the first place.

Castiel thumbed through the book, letting the pictures jump at him. One stopped him in his tracks. It was a picture of Lucifer, skillfully done. The blond hair, the piercing eyes, that smile that spoke of spiderwebs and deceit. A small signature was written at the bottom.

"Michael", written in an elegant hand. Lucifer's twin, once his most trusted friend.

Castiel remembered little of Lucifer. His locking had actually quite recent, only 24 or so human years before.

Gabriel had been close to Lucifer, and Michael as well. Gabriel's current form was that of a man in his thirties, with blond hair and a short stature. And, as usual, he had an insatiable appetite for sugary things. And, lucky for him, his human host often dreamed of delectable sweets. It was a wonder the host wasn't obese.

Gabriel had tottered along with "Mikey and Lucy", as he called them. His loyalty to them was reverent. He spent long hours asking questions, staring in wonder as they told about humans and food, or whatever else he asked.

Sometimes, he'd let Castiel come along too. "Cassie!" he'd shout. "Wanna see Mikey?"

But Lucifer was gone, and so was that reverent love and affection. It was a miracle Gabriel still smiled, his heart had been practically torn in two by Lucifer's turning and locking away.

Castiel continued his thumbing, then started reading in earnest.

At some point in time, his eyes slipped shut, and he, the dreamwalker, was caught in a dream.

 **[CASTIEL'S DREAM]**

Lucifer was standing at the edge of a cliff. The smell of salt was in the air, and wind whipped his blond hair into a tangled mess. He turned to Michael, who looked chagrined at a failure to conjure a flower.

"Michael, what do you think of humans?" Lucifer bent down and plucked a blade of grass.

Evenly, Michael replied. "I think they have potential, far greater than we realize. Why?"

Lucifer gestured dispassionately at the town behind them. "Look at what they have made. Look at us. Our imaginations and theirs are entwined. Can we not untangle ourselves?"

Michael looked his brother straight in the eye, a difficult feat, as Lucifer had the kind of eyes that stared into their soul and conveyed what they found there.

"Lucifer, do you wish to become a Nightmare?"

His brother ducked away. "No, but I often consider it."

The cool light in Michael's eyes began to ignite. In seconds, they were blazing, letting out an unearthly blue glow.

It was caught by his traditional white robe, casting him in tones that spoke of divinity. But Michael was not divine, nor perfect.

Lucifer seemed to halt for a minute, staring at the grey sky above.

A portal opened, and they were gone.

 **[MICHAEL'S LIBRARY]**

Castiel shook himself awake, noticing the deep ache of pain in his chest.

Unlike most dreamwalkers, Castiel preferred to stay away from common retreats. he spent most of his time in the Library, exploring the tombs housed there.

He teleported back to Dean's mind, and began to read again.

 _Michael and Lucifer were rare Dreamwalkers. Twins._

 _Only 3 known Dreamwalker twins have ever existed. The two pairs now known are Michael and Lucifer, as well as Hannah and Anna._

 _The first pair has been lost, but "Chuck and Amara" seem to be their most common names. Some have taken to calling them "God and the Darkness", but such terms hold no water, to put it in human terms._

 _As all twins tend to be, Michael and Lucifer were close._

 _Eye witnesses in Γη του All Υπενθύμιση, the capital city of what humans call "Dreamland", have reported countless times of how much they were together._

 _But the two were part of another, almost non-existent, group, for they were made with no hosts in mind. Only the first twins and Michael and Lucifer have ever been born as such._

 _It is a rare gift, and a coveted one._

Castiel shut the book.


	4. Car Radio

I ponder of something great

My lungs will fill and then deflate

They fill with fire, exhale desire

I know it's dire my time today.

* * *

 _ **[HOSPITAL]**_

Sam glared at the wall of the hospital, a textbook in his lap. The pages blurred in his vision as his eyes unfocused. A hand took the book out of his lap while its fellow snapped its fingers in his face.

"You're staring daggers, honey," Missouri said. "Take a break."

He sighed and stuck his pencil in a pocket as Missouri watched him like a hawk. She smiled slightly when he stood up.

"Thanks, Missouri," he replied hollowly.

"He'll be fine," Missouri said soothingly. Taking a seat next to him, she began speaking.

"I know this is odd," she started, "and I know you hate it. But listen."

Sam pressed an irritated hand to his forehead. She continued, disregarding his obvious discomfort.

"Dean is strong. I've known him for years. Even when he was six, he was the strongest little kid I've ever met. Even when he fell down and scraped his knee or the time he broke his arm falling from that tree, he didn't cry. And I think he did it for you. Everything he did for you. You are the light of his life, Sam, and he loves you."

He began to interrupt but she silenced him with a look.

"He's always wanted to be your support because he's your big brother. Because he loves you enough to not cry. To go on, even if it breaks him to pieces. To smile and think everything's okay. You are always going to be with him, and I bet that, even in there, he's dreaming you're with him. He's dreaming of you. Because he loves you enough to not let go. And if he does, it will be on his own terms."

Sam wrapped his arms around her, and she hugged him back.

"He'll always be with you, Sam. Don't doubt that."

* * *

 _ **[DEAN'S MIND]**_

Castiel dug a hand into his hair and watched the dream. It was of killer insects, and it honestly disturbed him. Traveling away from the dream, he flicked through Dean's memories and saw it.

The book of mythology. Dean had owned it for years, and when he was younger, he had loved to flip through the pages. See the different monsters and curses, how to defeat them and summon them. The memories must be surfacing in his dreams.

But the dream was odd. Dean knew nothing of Native American curses, and he needed to get rid of them. Finding the pages on curses, he discovered what it was.

But something else was happening. Sam, Dean's brother, was talking to Dean. But not in the dream. In the real world. Castiel listened.

"Hey, Dean," Sam said, somewhat awkwardly. "How is it in there? I wonder what you're dreaming about. It's been a while since I've talked to you, huh?"

Castiel sighed. It would be a while 'til Dean woke up. He pitied the tall man.

"I'm tired of Dad looking at me like I don't shape up," Sam confessed.

Castiel looked toward the dream again. Sam was talking to Dean in it, and they seemed to be arguing mildly.

Then, incredibly, Dean spoke. In the real world, of course. But his eyes stayed closed. "Sam, Dad was never disappointed in you. Never. He was scared."

Both the real and dream Sam stared. "What are you talkin' about?"

Dean continued. "He was afraid of what could've happened to you if he wasn't around. But even when you two weren't talkin'... he used to swing by Stanford whenever he could. Keep an eye on you. Make sure you were safe."

The real Sam smiled, albeit a little sadly.

* * *

 _ **[HOSPITAL]**_

Sam turned to Missouri, who smiled encouragingly. "That was odd."

"Comas are odd," Missouri said. "But that was good, Sam. You've made progress."

"But how did he respond? How did he talk to me? How did he do it?" Sam tugged at his hair. "It doesn't make sense. None of it makes any sense whatsoever. He must have just been dreaming. That's it."

"Perhaps," Missouri said mysteriously. "But that doesn't mean it isn't good.

* * *

 **Awkward A/N: Aaw, thanks, guys. I appreciate the reviews and follows, and honestly, I didn't expect them. (It isn't very 'out there' on Ao3, where I also posted it.)**


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